Bite This! (2 page)

Once in the relative safety of the endlessly mirrored ladies room, she straightened her dress and smoothed her hair.

She was about to head out when a searing pain lashed at her belly. It wasn’t like the pain from having been shoved around a little, or even taking a hard punch. It felt like something was mauling her from the inside.

There was no one else in the bathroom, so she rolled up the red sequined gown over her thighs and up to her rib cage.

In the endless mirrors, a thousand Darcys stared in wonder at the strange, swirling black markings that appeared to be rising to the surface of her skin, like some sort of tattoo, only being drawn from the inside.

Oh, boy.

More intrigued than frightened, she slipped her hand into her clutch to grab her phone. This was definitely something to talk to Mom about right away.

But she pulled out more than the phone.

The $500 chip.

The Fantastic Finn strikes again.

T
he Fantastic Finn
took a bow and exited stage left to the sound of five hundred women swooning.

In the wings, one of his two assistants waited.

Hera was wearing a tuxedo shirt over a tiny pair of shorts with fishnets underneath. She batted her fake eyelashes at him winningly.

“Great show, Finn,” she breathed.

She’d been teasing him throughout the performance, brushing her breasts against him suggestively when she put the handcuffs on him before the big escape, leaning over a bit too far to demonstrate the emptiness of the Chest of Wonders and giving him an ample view of her own wonders, the whole nine yards.

He could hardly say he was unaffected by her charms. She wasn’t as interesting as Darcy by a long shot, but he was always amped up after a magic show. And he had no ties.

No, the problem was simple carelessness.

As usual, he had banged one of his assistants.

But this time he couldn’t remember which one.

And that was a real problem, because this time they were twins. It was great for the act, but had proven more difficult than he’d anticipated offstage.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Hera purred, stroking his biceps lightly in a way designed to make him feel it in his groin. It was working. But he didn’t react because he wasn’t a hundred percent sure she was the sister he’d already slept with.

“Nobody knows how I do it,” he said lightly as they crossed the plush carpet to his dressing room. “That’s what keeps them coming back.”

When they reached the door, the usual hodgepodge of grandmas and sweet young things stood waiting for him, hoping for autographs in some cases, and something more in others.

“Wonderful show!”

“Will you sign my program?”

“Will you sign
me
?” That last had unbuttoned her blouse, unveiling a lush pair of breasts encased in emerald lace.

In light of the competition, Hera threw caution to the wind and wrapped her arms around Finn’s neck like a vine. She smelled like pancake make-up and hairspray but she was warm and willing.

And besides, if she was feeling possessive, that was a sure sign it was Hera he had slept with already. What a relief.

“Glad you enjoyed the show, ladies,” he said, as he swung Hera effortlessly into the air with one arm and opened the door to the dressing room with the other to carry her in.

On his love seat, Hera’s identical twin sister, Demeter, sat naked, showing off her flexibility with one leg hung over each arm of the seat. Her sex was slick and pink and ready to go.

The sight of it made Finn’s mouth water, even as he realized he was in real trouble.

“What the
hell
?” Hera yelped in his ear.

“Seriously?” Demeter asked in a bored voice, not bothering to close her legs.

“Uh,” Finn said helplessly.

“You’re sleeping with
her?”
Hera demanded.

Was
he sleeping with Demeter? Or would this have been the first time with Demeter and he’d been with Hera already?

Dammit, he was nothing but a stupid careless cock with a good-looking magician attached.

He decided to go for broke with an outrageous suggestion.

“There’s no reason we can’t share,” he suggested to Hera.

Demeter raised an eyebrow, but Hera began whacking him unceremoniously on the head.

Okay, so much for that. The Fantastic Finn wasn’t getting laid tonight.

And he was going to need some new assistants.

Again.

He lowered Hera gently to the ground as she buffeted his head and chest with ineffective jabs. She was definitely better at seductions than attacks.

Finn felt some guilt, but mostly just exhaustion. How long was he going to live this life? Would there ever be something more interesting to chase than a piece of tail that wanted to be caught?

He had always dreamed of being a hero, of using his powers for Good.

At this point he probably had a better chance of winning the lottery.

“Fuck you, Finn Butler,” Hera hissed on her way out the door. She was dragging Demeter behind her, who was now partially covered in one of Finn’s spare magician shirts.

Demeter made a furtive
call me
gesture at him on her way out the door.

He closed the door behind her and leaned against it, partly to rest, partly to keep any fans from entering in the twins’ wake.

Why did women love magicians so much?

Well.

Most women.

For the second time that night, Finn found himself daydreaming about the beguilingly disinterested cooler in the red sequined dress.

D
arcy was content
. Mostly.

The smells of breakfast still hung in the air - bacon and eggs, and buttermilk pancakes with real maple syrup. In the next room, the clatter and clink told her the kids were finishing up and would be carrying in their plates.

Soft light streamed in the window of the farmhouse kitchen, warming her face and giving her a view over the lawn through the branches of the huge sycamore. The other trees were just starting to lose their leaves, but the old sycamore, ever the first to sleep and the last to wake, already stood dormant. Without a single bud on its many branches, it stalwartly portended the sepia toned bleakness of the Pennsylvania winter lurking just over the horizon.

Darcy herself was becoming more and more aware of the passage of time. The ache at her navel had become pronounced and she was beginning to wonder if there was more to this three hundred moons business than she’d allowed her adult self to believe.

Unfortunately, she didn’t dare bring the subject up with Mom while the kids were around.

“Hi, Darcy,” a soft voice said.

Darcy smiled as she felt Hannah slip a slender arm around her. Hannah was twelve and shy, but just at an age where she could probably use more time with her older foster sister.

“Hey, kid,” Darcy replied, bending to kiss the dark head and making a mental note to grab her for a girls’ day soon.

The child smiled and held her plate uncertainly. At Harkness Farms the kids helped with the housework. But Darcy had planted herself at the sink.

“I’ll take care of it today, Hannah,” she assured her little sis. “Go read if you want.”

Hannah grinned openly, and dashed up the backstair, presumably before Darcy could change her mind.

Darcy smiled and plunged her hands back into the warm soapy water. All these kids and no dishwasher. Wouldn’t matter anyway. Mom believed in hard work, and most of her flatware was the handmade plates and bowls the kids made in school - none of them dishwasher safe.

Derek, her older foster brother, had always wanted to expand the kitchen to make life easier on Mom. He’d made it big in Glacier City - an addition and remodel would have been a drop in the king sized bucket of his wealth. Last fall when he was home for the harvest he’d tried to convince her again.

“Come on, Mom, there’s barely room in here to cook,” he’d argued.

But Mom would have nothing to do with it.

“Oh, no, I have my work triangle here: stove, sink, and fridge. Keep that big fancy kitchen for your own house, son. I’ve got things just how I like them,” she’d assured him, thumping the butcher block counter top for emphasis, her eyes twinkling.

In the corner of the kitchen, baby Luna had cackled and smacked her chubby palm on the floor of her play pen in reply.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Mom’s voice carried across the room, rousing Darcy from her reverie.

Before she could reply, a red-headed boy dashed toward the back door.

“Come on, play tag with us, Darcy,” Josh yelled, supreme confidence on his nine-year old face. Darcy
always
went outside with the kids and played.

“Give me a few minutes with her, Josh,” Mom said. “Go on out, don’t pout, and bring your little brother with you. Aidan,” she called.

A pattering of steps announced Aidan’s arrival.

Mom pointed at the door and the two of them scrambled out already yelling about the apple trees.

The screen door banged shut behind them.

“I wish you would just stay with us,” Kate Harkness’s voice was low and soft now. She sounded less like Mom and more like a fellow woman.

“I’ve already got the cabin set up, I’ll be fine,” Darcy assured her.

“I just don’t like the idea of you out there all alone during your 300th moon,” Kate said, grabbing a towel and beginning to dry the plates as Darcy rinsed, in their comfortable routine.

“I know,” Darcy said. “But I feel like I need room to stretch, and really let my wolf run. I’ve been so busy with the new job that I’ve barely had time to shift at all. I’d feel too penned in here. Besides, I’m not afraid.”

Kate laughed.

“I know you’re not, Darcy. That’s never really been an issue with you. It’s just that we don’t really know what to expect. This is a first for all of us,” she explained. “Grab me a couple of potatoes, will you? I’m going to prep a stew for tomorrow.”

Darcy walked around the small island to the potato bin, grabbed four large potatoes and set them down on the soapstone counter of the island. All the other tops were butcher block. You were allowed to cut meat and veggies on the island but not the butcher block. That was a huge no-no. Darcy had a bad memory of forgetting that particular rule. She’d put raw meat on the butcher block one hamburger night and she’d had to learn how to sand and oil the wood to make it right afterward.

Kate joined her at the island with her old favorite knife, she was peeling potatoes the old fashioned way into a neat pile within seconds.

Darcy rubbed her navel uncertainly. If she told her mom about the tattoo, she would worry. If she
didn’t
tell her she was as good as lying. Besides, Mom might know something, or be able to help her figure it out.

“Something weird happened,” Darcy said simply, having decided at last that she valued her mother’s advice more than her peace of mind. “I think I have a tattoo, and I didn’t put it there.”

Mom put the knife down.

Darcy raised her sweater enough to show the swirling marks, still indecipherable, but definitely darker than before.

“Do you think it has to do with the spell?” she asked.

Kate gazed at her belly for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as she examined the design.

“Gloria told me something about markings,” she said, referring to Gloria Cortez, the kind old friend who’d put the spell in place 299 moons ago. “That they’ll start to show more as the spell wears off. She says that once the mark is finished, so is the spell.”

“And then what?” Darcy asked quietly, hoping that at last she would be offered a real answer.

“And then you’re on your own,” Mom said slowly. “No more help from the magic when it comes to controlling your animal nature.”

“Good,” Darcy nodded, pulling her sweater back down.

Kate leaned forward, resting her elbows on the island.

“It might not be the blessing you think, Darcy. Of all my kids, you’ve always been the most in tune with your animal. I know you feel like you don’t need it, but even with the spell keeping it in check all these years, your wolf is never far from the surface.”

“So?” Darcy asked, trying to figure out why her mother’s expression was so stoic.

“So…” Kate straightened up, grabbing her knife again, and looking down at the potatoes as she peeled them viciously. “So what if the wolf is too strong? What if the spell ends, and then the wolf just takes over?”

Darcy was thunderstruck. How had this idea never occurred to her?

“What if you don’t want to be my daughter anymore?” Kate continued, her eyes glistening now, but her energy still firmly focused on the potato at hand.

“Oh Mom,” Darcy said, taking hold of her mother’s wrists to stop her furious peeling. “That will never happen. I promise.”

Kate set down her things and dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her apron.

Darcy came around the island and wrapped her mother in her arms. Mom, the valiant and the vigorous, felt so small just now. As if her fears for Darcy, for all her children, had taken a portion of her physical strength.

“I promise,” Darcy whispered fiercely in her ear.

But in truth she had never thought about it like that before. Just becoming a hundred percent wolf. It wasn’t really possible.

Was it?

D
arcy arrived
at work that night, determined not to be distracted with thoughts of her 300th moon.

She just had to get through this shift. Then she could go to the cabin and concentrate on holding onto herself and her wolf.

“Hey, D. Boss man wants you,” Mason said gruffly as soon as she entered the lobby. The big man had a range of facial expressions similar to his spectrum of suit colors: gray, dark gray and charcoal. The fact that he actually looked vaguely alarmed was a big deal.

Great.

“Thanks, Mason, be back as soon as I can,” she said, forcing a confident smile.

She ducked behind reception and pushed open the decorative metal emergency door. The penthouse was twenty flights up but Darcy hated elevators, they were too much like tombs. She also felt the exercise would help to burn off some of the nervous energy building up inside her.

Her heels made a reassuring racket as she dashed upward. The emergency stairs were about the only part of the casino that wasn’t covered in two inches of florid carpet.

She arrived at the top floor, not even winded; one of the benefits of being a wolf.

Swinging through the metal door and into the opulent lobby of the penthouse, Darcy paused for a moment, and took in the view.

From up this high, the City of Brotherly Love twinkled and shone. Almost like it didn’t smell like pee and stale cigarettes down there. With the curtain of velvety black sky and a million stars, it actually looked kind of pretty - like the sky was reflecting back the lights from the buildings, or vice versa.

Darcy stepped in for a better look.

The tattoo at her navel flared with pain.

She stepped back reflexively.

There was a circle of moonlight on the floor near the window. She had been inside it when the tattoo acted up.

Interesting.

She stepped back in and there it was again, not so bad now that she was expecting it.

It must be tied to the spell somehow.

“Is everything okay?”

She spun around to find Danny, Mr. Panchenko’s assistant, standing behind her. The young, dark-skinned man always wore a bluetooth headset and a slightly alarmed expression.

“Oh yeah. Sure,” she said, wondering how insane she looked stepping in and out of the moonlight. “I just thought I felt a weak spot in the floor. Can’t be too careful when it comes to termites.”

They both studied the floor.

It was marble.

“Mr. Panchenko is expecting you.” Danny gestured to the grand double doors, the look on his face growing even more concerned than usual. “Please, go on in.”

A pair of stone lions flanked the doors, as if Mr. Panchenko’s office were not an executive suite, but a late model McMansion. Classy.

“Thanks,” she nodded back at him, heading in.

Darcy took a millisecond to try and shake her inexplicable anxiousness. The boss had called her in, but she’d done nothing wrong. She was damned good at her job.

But deep down, she felt like she used to as a kid getting called to the principal’s office for fighting with the boys on the playground.

Why was she being summoned?

She opened the door and found her answer right in front of her.

Finn was already sitting across the giant mahogany desk from the boss.

He looked up at her, those damned hazel eyes twinkling again. He was dressed in street clothes now - a white t-shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders. Darcy didn’t allow her gaze to drop to his jeans. Damned magician.

She turned her attention to the man in charge.

“Mr. Panchenko,” she said with a professional smile.

“Please, Darcy, I’ve told you, it’s Roman. We’re all friends here,” Mr. Panchenko said in his trademark measured way.

Darcy doubted that very much. But she smiled again and took a seat next to Finn without sparing him another glance.

Darcy didn’t know much about Roman Panchenko. Just that he was some kind of big shot from Glacier City, who decided to get involved in the new casino scene in Philly. Her brother, Derek, ran a big company out there, and he told her the Panchenko family had some shady dealings going on in Glacier City, but that Roman had decided to make his share of the family business legit. Well, as legit as a casino owner could be, anyway.

Panchenko was handsome in a cold way with his elegant European suits, high cheekbones and dark, penetrating eyes. His unusual long silver hair gave the only appearance of indulgence in an otherwise restrained and prepossessing persona.

Panchenko was friendly enough, but there was something off about his smile. It never seemed to reach his eyes.

“I heard about the incident last night,” he said as soon as she was seated.

Finn’s hand went to the lump above his eye.

“Finn, I appreciate your dedication to the Stackhouse,” Panchenko continued. “Your actions were impressive. But such behavior is not part of your job description. We will not see this type of thing again in future. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Finn replied.

Darcy was glad he didn’t try to be cute about it.

“Darcy,” Panchenko’s voice was nearly a purr now, “you’ve proven again what a perfect addition you are to our organization.”

She inclined her head in silent acknowledgement.

“I’d like to ask you to change your mind about taking time away,” he continued. “I would be more than happy to offer you a bonus for postponing your vacation.”

Oh, no.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t postpone,” she replied.

“Do it as a favor to me,” he suggested.

Shit on a shingle.

“This scheduled time off was a condition of my employment contract. But if you would like to reconsider I won’t object to you terminating me and hiring another cooler to take my place,” she said quietly but firmly.

“Steady there. And forgive my presumption. Everyone says yes to Roman Panchenko,” he replied, dark eyes flashing. “I admire a woman with… resolve.”

A
woman with resolve. Was he hitting on her?

He leaned in.

“I’ll keep you around a bit longer, Darcy. We’ll do our best to manage. But if you can see fit to end your travel arrangements early, I’ll pay you triple time for any shift you can fit in before your scheduled return. Even if it begins tomorrow because you’ve decided to cancel your trip.”

Triple time. For a month. That could put a new roof on the barn at Harkness Farms. Best not to think about it or she’d be tempted.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, not allowing him to see she was tempted. “Was there anything else? I hate to leave my partner alone on the floor.”

He leaned back in his chair again and laughed.

“Fine, of course. See you two soon, Darcy, Finn,” he said.

“Bye, sir,” Finn said.

“See you in a month,” Darcy said lightly.

Panchenko’s chuckle followed her out the door.

Finn was right on her heels.

She hurried for the stairs again, hoping he wouldn’t follow. It was probably just the trick he’d pulled yesterday, but something about the magician was getting under her skin.